The next morning, Lauren awoke to the sound of twenty-seven dogs barking at the rising sun. She squinted through half-veiled eyelids, taking a moment to remember where she was and why.
A pounding sounded on the wall, followed by Shane’s muffled growl, “Go feed the dogs!”
“Go feed the dogs,” she mimicked, a part of her hoping the old grump had heard as she dressed for the outside.
The dogs were just as eager to see her today as they had been yesterday. They pulled against their leads, hopped on top of their houses, and ran energetic circles around their kennels.
“Good morning, lovelies!” she sang, going through and giving each dog a pat on its head as she reminded herself of their names.
Briar Rose greeted her the most warmly of all, actually letting out a low, pathetic whine when Lauren continued on to say hello to the next dog.
“Aww, Briar. I’ll take you out first. I promise. But first, how about some breakfast?”
Apparently, that was the right thing to ask, because the team’s excitement reached a fever pitch as Lauren headed off in search of the dog food. Noting the old wooden shed round the side of the house, Lauren headed there first. It was bolted up tight, and its windows were obscured with cardboard. So this must be the shed mentioned in Shane’s ridiculous house rules, one of the two places Lauren was not allowed to go.
This realization made her tug at the door handle with even more force, but it wouldn’t budge. What was in there that was so private? She wanted to spend more time trying to figure that out, but the dogs were manic with excitement now, and if she didn’t feed them soon, Shane would no doubt come out to see about the holdup—and such an exchange would not be pleasant, especially first thing in the morning.
At last she found the dog’s kibble in the garage, along with a hose she could use to fill up their water dishes. When she rejoined them at the kennels, she noticed that each only had a single bowl instead of the two they needed, so she dumped the food on the ground and filled the bowls to the brim with water, which froze over almost immediately in the frigid climate.
“What am I doing wrong?” Lauren asked Briar Rose, who sadly didn’t have an answer for her.
Once the red husky had finished her meal, Lauren unhooked her from the kennel and took her for a walk around the property. Briar stayed tucked in at Lauren’s heels as they tromped through the snow. Was she really going to have to do this with twenty-seven dogs, one at a time, every single day she was here?
She let Briar off the leash so the old dog could run and really stretch her legs, then returned to the kennels to see about grabbing a couple more dogs to exercise.
Shane was there, kicking at one of the water dishes and mumbling under his breath. Briar Rose ran right over to him and jumped up to plant a series of enthusiastic kisses on his face.
“What’s going on here?” Shane said, turning toward Lauren with a deep scowl on his face.
“I fed the dogs and now I’m walking them, one by one like your rules dictate.” She had half a mind to add “sir” but didn’t want to make him even angrier than he already was, no matter how amusing that might be.
“Why is there ice in the bowls? Didn’t you follow my instructions about the slurry?”
“Slurry?” She giggled at the funny word. “Is that one of those Inuit words for snow?”
Shane let out a deep sigh. “You’re going to be more trouble than you’re worth. You know that?”
“Maybe if you taught me how you wanted things done, you wouldn’t be so disappointed all the time,” she pointed out, but he ignored her snide remark and jumped into enraged lecture mode.
“Step one: give the dogs slurry—warm water and food in one dish to keep it from freezing over.” He kicked at the bowl again. “Step two: keep the dogs on leash, always. No free running unless you want them to fight. Step three: you’ll preserve your energy better and use theirs up more if you get on the small sled. Step four—“
“Hold on a sec. You’re giving me a lot of information all at once and I don’t have anything to write it down with.”
He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose with thickly gloved fingers. “That’s why I wrote it down for you. You didn’t read the rules before signing, did you?”
She hesitated, which apparently gave him all the answer he needed.
“I thought you said you take this job seriously.”
“I do. I just didn’t realize there would be no on-the-job training and that you would be so particular about how everything is done. They’re just dogs, Shane. Dogs need love more than anything.”
“You have got to be kidding me? Love?” He actually had the audacity to laugh at her now. “And they are not just dogs. They are my entire livelihood. They’re champion racers who need to stay in shape. They were born to run, and just because I can barely walk doesn’t mean they should be tied up all season. So forget the love and focus on your duties. Once you make sure all the important things are handled each day, you have my blessing to use whatever energy you have left—if you have any at all—to shower the puppy wuppies with wuv.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Just stating the obvious. It’s not my fault you have no idea what you’re doing, and it’s also not my fault you didn’t read the rules.” He cleared his throat and glanced at her for a moment before heading back toward the house and calling over his shoulder, “Now put that dog back on her lead and do the job right.”
Lauren knew then that Shane’s friendship would not be easily won. As much as she challenged him, he would challenge her right back. She knew what she was fighting for—a fresh start for her future and illumination of her father’s past—but what on earth was Shane working so hard to keep hidden?